100 Themes Challenge - Bluestreak
by JeteThroughLife
Summary: "I am attempting a challenge greater than Mount Everest, greater than the Moon, greater than Mars... It is... THE 100 THEMES CHALLENGE!" ... Okay, a little dramatic, but you get the idea. If you haven't already figured it out from the title, these 100 Themes will be starring - the one and only - Bluestreak. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the show... Er, fanfic.


**It's here! *\(^_^)/***

**I hope you enjoy the awesome Bluestreak-ynes I have in store for you! ^_~**

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><p><strong>1. Introduction<strong>

_Cybertron - Iacon_

He shifted slightly on his pedes. His doorwings growing sore from being held stiff in a 'relaxed' position, when they so desperately wanted to press down, close to his body, showing his nerves. The small smile made his face feel tight, like a mask. They had all been standing there for some time, while all their superior officer did was write on a datapad. When he had first come in, he had walked up and down the line of transferred mechs and femmes, giving a slight nod of his head as he went. Then when he reached the end - right next to Bluestreak - he had stopped, and with a quick, "You may talk amongst yourselves if you wish." he had dived head first into his datapad. So while everyone had started chatting with one another, Bluestreak stood there awkwardly, trying not to allow his doorwings to show how intimidated he felt. It didn't help that the officer was Praxian too, and could easily tell how uneasy Bluestreak really was, which was proven when the officer would throw him a small glance.

And so, Bluestreak was left alone with his thoughts... _What if they don't like me? What if I'm not good enough? What if I mess up and put bot's lives on the line? Why am I even here. I was fine being a grunt. I didn't care that we were losing ground in Polyhex. I don't care if I die out there. Anywhere is better than Iacon, where I'll mess up, and screw things over, and make a fool of myself, and what if-_

"You will all meet Jazz at the assembly hall at 10:00 mega-cycles. You are free to go." The Praxian officer said suddenly, pulling Bluestreak out of his downward spiral of thoughts. The talking quieted, and there was a pause as his words sank in. Than the mass of bots split up into several groups, heading off in different directions, leaving Bluestreak behind.

It took a second, but it occurred to Blue, _I don't know where to go._ A wave of panic washed over him, threatening to pull him under. Bluestreak quickly followed the direction the others had gone, no longer wanting to be with the officer that could read his mind as easily as the Decepticon Communications officer supposedly could.

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><p>Prowl watched the fellow Praxian rush from the room as if Unicron himself was on his heels. He felt a small amount of pity for the younger mech. He was clearly uncomfortable, doorwings tense, tight smile, constantly shifting. And he looked about half the age of the others (who were already rather young for his liking).<p>

_He'll probably get lost._ With a sigh, Prowl activated his comm.

":Jazz, come in.:"

::Talk to hand 'cause the helm ain't home!::

":Jazz.:"

::Ah'm busy Prowlers!::

":Busy with work, or busy procrastinating.:"

::**...**::

":I thought so. I need you to check on one of the new transfers.:"

::One o' dem warrior types givin' ya trouble?::

":Not quite. He's more… lost than anything. I'm sending you his file.:"

::**...** Dang, he's young. Right… The Jazzmister is on it!::

":Understood. Prowl out.:"

There, now his conscience was clear. After all, Jazz was better at handling bots then he was. And he did have all of those reports to go through…

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><p>Bluestreak wandered the halls of the Iacon base aimlessly. It was <em>huge<em>. Far larger than anywhere he had been before. Perfectly meeting the expectations of the Autobots HQ and home of the Prime.

Being slightly smaller than the others, Bluestreak couldn't really see where he was going. He was shoved this way and that, as bots hurried to their assigned posts. Heck, even the minibots were doing better job at navigating the crowds. Bluestreak thought about asking for directions. But then again, he didn't really know _where_ he was suppose to go. And it's hard to ask for directions when your destination is unknown.

So, pressing his doorwings as close to his body as he could, Bluestreak pushed himself as much out of the way as possible, and continued wandering. As he walked, his thoughts started to drag him further in. _Stupid. Useless. Worthless. No good. Waste of space. I bet everyone will say I talk too much. And I bet they'll talk behind my back. While I'm in the room too. Just like the others did. I mean, I know I talk a lot, but I'm not deaf. I could _hear _what they were saying. Loud mouth. Chatter box. Slag mouth. Glitched. Audio-rape. The run-on sentence. I mean sure, I've got good aim, but I'm probably not even close to average here. Compared to the Iacon bots, I'm laughable really. I mean, who would - hey… Where did everyone go?_

Bluestreak looked around confused. He hadn't realized the hallways had gotten less crowded until there was no one left. No one but himself. Had he wandered into some restricted area? _Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…_

A wave of panic washed over him. What if he wasn't suppose to be here? What if he got in trouble? What if there was some kind of emergency, and he got in the way?

Rushing through one empty corridor after another, Bluestreak struggled to keep his intakes calm. But no matter where he turned, all he was met with was empty space, until he was well and truly lost. Alone. The last one. Everyone else was gone, and all that was left was the silence. The never ending silence.

_Stop! No, no, no. There's got to be someone. Anyone! I can't be alone. Not again. Not... nononononononononononono…_

Bluestreak stopped dead in the hall, intakes hitching. No, he wouldn't cry. Someone might see. Then there'd be the names and the teasing. Weak. He was weak to cry. Only, his optics wouldn't listen to him, and soon hot, wet tears began to run down his face. His hands balled into fits, and his doorwings quivered.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid… Frag it Blue!_

He angrily wiped away the tears, but they continued to fall. His frustration only fuelling the grief swelling in his spark, and one lone hiccuping sob escaped his vocalizer before he could stop it.

"Well, who do have we here!?"

Bluestreak jumped in surprise at the loud voice that appeared next his audio as someone slung their arm over his shoulders, somewhat mindful of his doorwings. He looked up into the cheerful face of a tall, bright red mech with a dark helm. "Wha' do ya think Sunshine?"

"The name's Sunstreaker, aft." Bluestreak looked to his right to stare up at a tall yellow mech with similar structure to the red mech on his left. The only difference between the two was the helm design and the scowl that the yellow wore. _Where did they come from? I didn't even hear them approach._ Bluestreak thought confused.

"You got a name kid?"

It took a second for Bluestreak to realize that the red mech had spoken to him. "Uh… B-Bluestreak." Blue mumbled.

"Well B-Bluestreak, I'm Sideswipe. That lovely mech right there is my twin, Sunstreaker. But you can call him Sunny." Sideswipe winked.

"No, he can't Sides." Sunstreaker growled. However he had an odd expression on his face.

Bluestreak looked wearily between the two as they appeared to have some sort of silent discussion. Then, with a small pout the yellow mech broke the heated optic contact.

"Now that the Introductions are over," Bluestreak's gaze snapped back to Sideswipe, "what exactly are you doin' here on your lonesome?"

Bluestreak shifted. Looking away, he muttered something unintelligible. Sideswipe cocked his head to the side. "What did you say?"

"I said, I'm lost." Bluestreak mumbled, face darkening from embarrassment. He waited with bated breath for the beratement.

"Well, then what _you_ need is a map." Sideswipe grinned. "Where you headed to?"

"I… I don't know." Bluestreak slumped.

"Well then you're not lost, are ya." Sideswipe joked.

"I, guess not." Bluestreak replied, relieved that the new mechs weren't going to make fun of him.

"There you go! One problem solved. Why don't you hang out with _us_ until you know where you're suppose to be, hmm? Sunny?"

Bluestreak looked to the yellow mech, half expecting him to tell Blue to get lost. Sunstreaker merely replied with a bored, "Meh."

Sideswipe positively beamed at that, practically skipping down the hall, dragging the youth with them.

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><p>Jazz growled in frustration, startling several nearby bots. They scuttled away as Jazz thumped through the halls. He'd been searching for mega-cycles (... okay just one and three cycles, but still) and there was still no sign of the missing transfer. How could the bot just <em>disappear<em>!

It was nearly 10:00 mega-cycles. Jazz needed to find this bot _now_….. time to bring in the big guns.

":Heyya Red, ya copy?:"

::What do you want Jazz.::

":Ah'm lookin' fo' a mech. Ya wouldn' happened to have seen 'em would ya?:"

::What mech Jazz, you need to be more specific.::

":Er, right. Ah'm sendin' ya the file.:"

::Hmm…. Oh. Uh, yes I've seen him.::

":Red?:"

::I…. last saw him with the 'terror twins' near the Rec. Room.::

":As in, the 'terror twins' Sideswipe and Sunstreaker who cause trouble for the officers and 'welcome' the new bots?:"

::**... **Yes.::

":Slaggit.:"

Jazz spun 180 and raced down the hall, cutting the transmission as he went.

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><p>"No way! How did you do <em>that<em>!" Bluestreak exclaimed.

"He didn't." Sunstreaker said in a bored manner.

"I did so! Ya believe me, right Blue?" Sideswipe whined. Bluestreak giggled, "Sure I believe you."

"There, ya see Sunny."

"Don't call me that." Bluestreak giggled again.

"_He's sure happier than when we found him in the hall, huh?"_ Sideswipe said to his brother through their bond.

"_Hmm? Yeah, I guess."_

"_I wonder what made him so upset."_

"So Bluestreak, where were you transferred from?" Sideswipe asked to keep the conversation flowing.

"Polyhex." Bluestreak replied casually as he brought his cube up to his lips.

"What." Sunstreaker sat up. "That's at the edge of Autobot territory. Hasn't it been under attack for orbital-cycles?"

"Kinda…" Bluestreak admitted sheepishly as he took a sip. The twins shared a look. The table fell into an awkward silence.

"So… erherm…. what do you do… with the Autobots?" Sideswipe asked, trying break the ice.

"Oh. Uh, I'm a gunner… just a grunt really. I've got pretty good aim, but that's about it." Bluestreak said.

"Nah, there's got to be somethin' else ya can do." Sideswipe reassured.

"Not really…" Bluestreak ducked his helm down.

"Hand to hand?"

"I suck at that."

"Espionage?"

"I'm not good at sneaking."

"Hit an' run?"

"I'm good at the hit part…. I fall on my face during the run part." Sideswipe barked out a laugh while Sunstreaker snorted.

"Hey, what time is it?"

"Uhhh….." Sideswipe glanced at the monitor on the wall, "9:53 mega-cycles."

"Oh. I'm suppose to meet a bot named 'Jazz' at an assembly hall at 10:00 mega-cycles…."

"But you don't know where that is, do you?" Sunstreaker finished.

Bluestreak's response was to blush a dark grey in embarrassment. Sideswipe laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "That's alright. We'll show ya. Don't worry, Jazz is a really cool bot. Ya'll like him."

Sunstreaker grabbed the empty cubes to dispose of them, while Sideswipe wrapped an arm around Bluestreak's shoulders, stood up, and led him out of the room, closely followed by his brother.

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><p>Prowl was annoyed.<p>

He'd been called down to the assembly hall because Jazz hadn't shown up and the new transfers couldn't get in; and the bots running to and fro had complained about the main hall being clogged with mechs and femmes.

So now Prowl was standing out in the hall by the assembly's door, waiting for the slagger to show up. Which he hadn't. For the past 10 cycles. Until…

"Oh, heyyyy Prowlers!"

"Jazz…" Prowl growled, turning to face the pit-spawn. He couldn't figure out why everyone assumed they were friends. It was illogical.

"Sorry Ah'ma late…. Ah, uh…. couldn't find the, er, mech…. ya were…. lookin' fo'." Jazz admitted sheepishly.

Prowl sighed. "How is the head of Special Ops _not_ capable to find one lost mech."

"Oh heyyyy Prowl, Jazz. Are we late for the show?"

""Not _now_ Sideswipe!"" Both Jazz and Prowl snapped as they turned to face the terrible duo…. only to stare dumbfounded at the mech of their discussion.

"What!... Who!... Where!... Zeta!..." Jazz cried, waving his hands at the silver youth in between the twins. Bluestreak tried to shrink down under the perceived criticism.

"_Bluestreak_ was lost, so me and Sunny-"

"Don't call me that!"

"-Were keepin' an optic on 'im." Sideswipe explained, an odd tone in his voice. "'We late?"

Prowl and Jazz just stood there with their mouths open. Finally, Jazz managed to find his voice. "Uh, no… Ah just arrived."

"Good. See you inside!" Sideswipe called over his shoulder as he and his twin walked the young bot in.

"... Well tha' was… odd." Jazz stated as soon as the tricksters had disappeared. Silence was the only reply he got. Jazz turned to the SIC next to him, who was still staring where the twins had been standing, a blank expression on his face. "Prowlers?"

**Thunk**

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><p><strong>I had a surprisingly hard time with this prompt. It took me <em>forever<em> to finish, and I'm still not that happy with the ending. (-_-;)**

**None the less, here it is! *tada* ~(_ _)~ [faceplant]  
><strong>

**I will have more up soon. I'm not sure if I'll be updating them in order or not. Depends on how fast I write the ones in between this and the other few I've started.**

**Enjoy!**


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